Friday, January 28, 2011
Phone Call, Scandalous Behavior, and a Little Snow
As I began to stir this morning and prepared to get out from under the warm covers at about 4:45 am, the phone rang. WTF? Whenever the phone rings during the night or before dawn, it usually means bad news. And it was, in a sense. Some drunk woman was hankering for her Ex and was all weepy and whining - reminding me of that most annoying popular song at the moment containing the lyrics, "it's a quarter after one, I'm a little drunk, and I need you now." The performers of said song are on my bucket list for slow, painful strangulation.
After about 10 minutes trying to sympathize with her and get her to go to bed, I realized it was futile and ended the call. Bitch, please! She called back a couple of times and I hung up. Finally the calls stopped. This telephone number must have belonged to a Soap Opera writer at some point.
Walked to work with a light dusting of snow under foot and tiny flakes falling, but melting as they hit the ground. While going through the usual morning routine there is a sudden tapping on the side door. There stands a woman who has "been in the business" for longer than anyone would want to know. She begs entry, but that's not going to happen, so I go outside to talk with her and am blasted with her tale of woe. She's looking for a new job and cannot abide the goings-on at her present one. I finally give her an application just to shut her up and send her on her way, when she lets loose with "oh, there is soooo much drama where I work now, I just can't take it anymore." I stop in my tracks, turn to face her squarely and reply, "honey, drama goes with the territory and if you can't take it where you are now, you ain't gonna cut it here. This is Tennessee Williams country." I don't think she got it. She took the application and was gone.
Nice lunch customers, except for one couple who were clearly not married to each other, license plates from 2 different states, drink heavily as they rendezvous at the bar, make out like horny teenagers, (I'm talking sleazy folks in their 50s here) He's in tight jeans and cowboy boots sporting a beard colored with shoe polish and a western style shirt (pearl snaps, and all) open to the waist. She is in what could have been a black Chanel pant suit with gold shawl and way too much gold jewelry. You get the picture?
After 2 hours of sucking face and getting louder with every drink, I was about to ask them to leave when they saved me the trouble. As they were staggering out the guy asked me for directions to one of our more prestigious ocean-front hotels, not sure either understood, as they held each other up and stumbled to their cars, parked side-by-side. The tension at the bar vanished immediately. Conversations erupted and laughter from the others on bar stools made it clear that they were happy that the annoying twosome was finally gone. I was, too. BTW, on a bar bill of well over $70.00, they left the barman a $2.00 tip.
I'm not a prude, but I have never liked to be subjected to face-sucking, feeling-up, tit-kissing, or ear-licking in public. Whether it be by indulgent heteros, or equally horny homos. It's just bad taste. GET A ROOM, ALREADY!
By the end of the day we had served some very lovely people including the neighbors of a friend of mine. These 2 gals love to dine with us and bring me up to date on the news in their neighborhood. It's always good to get hugs and today I received many.
Walked home under a mixture of snow and rain, have shed the work drag, and am enjoying olives as I prep terriaki wings for supper.
And so it goes.